


Enemies With Benefits

by CobaltStargazer



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Antagonistic Relationship, F/F, Hate Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 01:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once is an accident. Twice is a mistake. Three times? Yeah, that's on purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enemies With Benefits

**Author's Note:**

> Going for the hat trick here. This is another second attempt, because I had the thing _finished_ , and then something screwed up somewhere and it became one with the ether. If ya'll heard some long-distance Gestalt style screaming, that was me.

It had been another one of those cases.

Not that any of the cases the BAU dealt with were pleasant, but this one had been particularly bad. It never failed to amaze Emily how creative people could be in the things they did to one another, and dealing with the aftermath had left her angry and frustrated. She'd slogged through her paperwork on the plane, not wanting to linger in the building. When JJ invited her out for a late drink with Garcia, she'd declined, knowing she'd be lousy company. She returned to the building long enough to claim her car, then couldn't decide whether to go home or not. Sergio might help her feel better about the world, but a drink didn't sound like a terrible idea. So she turned left instead of right when she exited the parking lot. There was a liquor store not too far from where she lived. If she hurried, she could get there before they closed.

The store wasn't crowded because it was so late, and Emily poked around in the bourbon section. Hotch had said they could take the day off tomorrow, so if she had to sleep it off she could do that. She was in the process of selecting a bottle when she spotted a familiar face two rows over in the vodka section. Something not entirely unpleasant uncurled itself in her stomach, and after a second she put the bottle back with more noise than was required. Glass rattled against glass, and in the quiet the sound seemed very loud.

Erin had been looking for her brand when she heard the noise, and she looked up to find Agent Prentiss staring at her over the shelves. Her expression blanked, and then she let out a breath. She and Paul were fighting - again - and he'd stormed out of the house. The kids were with friends that night, so they hadn't been subjected to the yelling. It was probably a bad sign that she wanted a drink, or a lot of drinks, to forget about it, but she was in no mood to examine the what's and the why's right now. The two women looked at each other, and at last Prentiss made a soft noise and stepped around the end of the aisle.

"I didn't know this was your neighborhood."

"It isn't, and there are a lot of things you don't know about me."

It scratched an itch Emily hadn't realized she'd had when Strauss snapped at her, and she made a 'hmm' sound as she perused the store's selection of vodka. She had always wondered what the point of vodka was. It wasn't terrible, and cold it was pretty good, but she liked her booze to actually taste like something. The silence stretched out like taffy.

"I know enough."

Erin picked up a different bottle, looked at the label. In a way it was comforting knowing that Prentiss would fight with her, no matter how subtly. It was a reminder of how things were supposed to be. 

"Think so, do you?"

The profiler snorted softly, looking at the way the shelf was distorted through the clear alcohol. She was trying to imagine Strauss ever being in a good mood and couldn't do it. Maybe she'd been born pissed off. It would suit her. Emily's left hand dropped out of sight, and she palmed a nice handful of the other woman's ass where no one could see her do it. To pat or to squeeze?

"I know what you look like with your heels digging into my ass."

Of all the unmitigated **gall**...

Erin put the bottle down with a thump, and the lone cashier looked in their direction. She took a step away from the brunette, then summoned her best glare to put the other woman in her place. If she thought this was the place for grab-ass, she was _sadly_ mistaken. Not that her breath hadn't hitched a little, because it had.

"I will thank you to keep your hands to yourself," she said, biting off each word. "I don't know who you think you're dealing with, but you'd better re-think it."

Had she gone too far? Emily took a quarter-step back, taking her hand away as she re-assessed. The minutes were ticking by until closing time.

"Do you want me to go away?" Her voice was muted, and she made eye contact, brown eyes meeting blue ones. A frank expression rather than a contrite one. "I can do that, Ma'am."

And part of Erin knew she should say yes, even _wanted_ to say yes. It had already happened twice that she'd found herself entwined with the other woman, and that was a half-step away from getting involved with Hotchner. And would be just as disastrous if anyone found out. How could she get even semi-involved with someone she didn't, couldn't trust? One crack in her armor and they'd smell blood in the water. 

But she was remembering drowsy brown eyes staring down into hers as her cunt muscles twitched and quivered in the wake of orgasm, and that damned _Ma'am_ was back. If this was a dirty little secret, it was theirs, not just hers. Mutually assured destruction if it was discovered. And if those dark eyes reminded her of something - someone - she'd lost, then that was no one's business but her own, thank you very much. Sometimes, damn it, she just wanted to fuck. Or be fucked. 

"Can we go somewhere?"

Jesus Christ, the woman was _nuts_ or something. But then again,. maybe she was a little crazy herself, because she was thinking about it. Emily had lost the urge for a drink, anyway. A watch check said it was five minutes until midnight, and the cashier was pointing at the clock above the register. Last call.

"Let's take separate cars. It'll be easier that way."

The brunette broke several traffic laws on the way back to her apartment, and fortunately no flashing lights appeared in her rear view mirror. She doubted her badge would have gotten her out of a speeding ticket. The parking garage was quiet when she pulled the car into her spot, and she waited until she saw the blonde's vehicle park next to hers. By the time they were headed down the silent hall to her door, Emily was the one with a hand on her ass.

Needless to say, this was the first time Erin had seen the profiler's apartment, and she looked at things in the living room while she removed her coat. She saw a dark blur as a cat leapt from the window sill and disappeared into the next room. The two women studied each other in the light of the two lamps that had been switched on.

One of them must have moved, because they ended up on the couch. Prentiss' sofa was made of blue cloth rather than leather. Erin asserted herself this time, pushing the brunette onto her back, and after some tension the other woman acquiesced. The pale flesh of her throat looked delectable, and she attached her mouth to it. 

And okay, so it wasn't terrible to have Strauss on top. Emily was wearing a simple green blouse, and between them they managed to get it unbuttoned and then off. Her bra was also green. The brunette arched her back, pushing her breasts forward. She wanted the other woman's mouth on her cleavage. Lips, tongue, teeth, everything, all of it.

The profiler's breasts were larger than the blonde had imagined, with brown nipples. Erin took the right one into her mouth as the fingers of one hand fastened onto the left, where they began to roll the stiff peak back and forth. She'd always loved breasts. Beneath her, Prentiss was squirming deliciously. She circled the dark bud with her tongue, nipped at it.

She was trying to get more weight where it would do some good, but the other woman refused to cooperate. Bitch. There was some friction, but not enough. Not _nearly_ enough. Emily was biting her lower lip as she squirmed more determinedly. Strauss had switched to the other breast, was using her mouth on it liberally. She was rocking a little against her leg. The brunette swore.

"Don't be so Goddamned selfish,"

Erin laughed, the sound gravelly, and she fit her thigh between Prentiss' legs. Enough to make contact, but not enough to press down hard. Warm breath fanned over the side of the other woman's neck, then against the delicate cavern of her ear.

"I want to wear the harness this time."

That sent a jolt straight to Emily's clit, and the tease of friction was excruciating. She was flushed, her exposed breasts pink as the blood came to the surface. Above her, the blonde rubbed her thigh against her crotch. Her underwear was going to be wrecked before she could get them off. Get them off. Get off. Fuck!

Somehow their limbs disentangled, and the brunette made her shaky way into the bedroom where she kept her toy bag. She dropped it twice because her hands were trembling so much. Finally she got the zipper open, and after some rummaging found what she wanted. Foot steps sounded behind her, and Emily turned with the harness and dido in her hands. Strauss was in the doorway.

No, check that. Strauss was _naked_ in the doorway.

"Fuck. Me." Two words, two separate sentences.

Erin smiled, If she had been inclined to fool herself, she'd have believed that was affection in the brunette's expression. But she was willing to accept raw lust as a substitute.

"We'll get to that."

She moved closer to the bed, and Emily sat down on the mattress. After the blonde stepped into the harness, she moved it up around her hips, then fastened the straps. The dildo jutted outwards, and she curled her fingers around it. It felt like it was a million degrees in the room, and it made her want to rip the rest of her clothes off. Her legs flexed, and she lifted her weight enough to lick the other woman's left breast.

"Help me take the rest of this off before I burst into flames."

Erin unfastened the profiler's slacks, and she started to works them down her legs when the brunette lifted her hips. Red underwear lay beneath, and when she ran two fingers over the material covering Prentiss' mound, it was soaked. A smirk made the corners of her mouth twitch.

"Ready to go, are we?"

"God, would you shut up?"

The underwear joined the pants on the floor, and Erin felt a dim sense of envy at the lack of stretch marks, the absence of a Caesarian scar. To dispel it, she joined the other woman on the bed, and hard nipples bumped together. She wondered who Prentiss might be thinking of. It took her three tries to find her mark. When the tip of the fake cock slid into the brunette, she felt gratified to see her start to worry her bottom lip. 

Strauss' rhythm was awkward at first, clumsy. Emily locked her ankles together at the base of the other woman's spine, muttering instructions into her ear as she lifted her hips into the first few thrusts. She had expected to have to offer guidance.

But the enthusiasm....there was something to be said for the enthusiasm of the first timer.

Erin was wondering if this was what men felt, what Paul felt. But fuck Paul. Or better yet, _don't_ fuck Paul. They'd lived separate lives for a while now, and the only reason divorce hadn't been mentioned was because of ennui. She attached her mouth to the side of Prentiss' neck, bit down gently. She was catching on now, finding out what worked. The base of the dildo rubbed exquisitely against her clit with every down-stroke. 

"Harder."

Emily arched her neck, and her hands were digging into Strauss' upper arms as the blonde started to put her shoulders into it. "Bite me harder. Leave a mark if you have to, I don't care."

More pressure was applied, and the moan Erin got in response delighted her. She licked the ring of teeth marks she'd left behind, and the room was becoming explosively hot. She felt like she could ride the brunette right through the mattress and then down to the floor. Hate-fuck her into oblivion.

Emily said something obscene as the rhythm picked up speed, and she had the knuckles of her left hand in her mouth to stifle the noises she wanted to make. For a newbie, the other woman was a fast study. She could feel the straps of the harness against the insides of her legs as she bucked upwards. She moaned around her knuckles, unable to contain the sound. The world was simultaneously collapsing in on itself and spinning peacefully on its axis.

Erin lifted her head when she felt the brunette's body tense up, because she wanted to watch her come. One hand slid down a sweat-slick stomach, and two fingers twiddled over Prentiss' clit to tip her over the edge. She was a half-step behind her, coming with a yell.

Waves of pleasure surged through Emily's consciousness, and she surfed on the bliss of it for what felt like a long time. The weight on top of her kept the sweat from being exposed to the open air. Once she returned to herself, she put her hands on Strauss' shoulders and gave them a push. She could live with being a little cold easier than she could any emotional intimacy.

"You're heavy." 

Erin rolled her eyes drowsily as she turned onto her back. "You didn't mind it a minute ago."

Emily brushed the bite on the side of her neck, and it stung. She was going to have to hunt up a scarf, wear it until the marks faded. She didn't have to ask if Strauss could keep a secret. She was used to holding back what she could, keeping some things private. Her friends didn't need to know _everything_ about her.

"We need to come up with some rules if we're going to keep doing this."

More gall. Erin laughed shortly, sat up and scooted to the edge of the mattress. "Don't flatter yourself." She began to take the harness off, then turned the dildo back and forth in one hand before setting both objects aside. Her muscles felt loose and relaxed. She could shower when she got home. Her idiot husband was probably still sulking.

Emily studied the ceiling, then the line of the blonde's back. She was still touching the bite mark, enjoying the slight sting. "Suit yourself," she said without rancor. It wasn't like she'd been planning to ask for cuddle time. "You can use the shower or not. I can lock up after you leave either way."

The blonde was halfway to the bedroom door when Prentiss spoke, and she looked over her shoulder at the other woman, who was still half-sprawled on the bed. She looked serene, and not unlike someone out of an oil painting. Rubens? Botticelli? No, not Botticelli, she wasn't heavy enough. Now that they'd both played 'Guess Your Weight', that was a proven fact.

In the living room, she began to collect her clothes so she could put them on. She felt better. Not great, but better.

_We need to come up with some rules if we're going to keep doing this._

The blonde snorted, shaking her head. Again? Like hell. Three times was more than enough.


End file.
